


The Tempestuous Daughter

by The_Winter_Child



Series: The Battles We Fight [4]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Battle of Odessen, Knights of the Fallen Empire, Knights of the Fallen Empire Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Winter_Child/pseuds/The_Winter_Child
Summary: [WARNING: Contains stuff from the new trailer, so please watch that first!]
Vaylin decides to go back to Zakuul to take what is hers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for references to child abuse.

“You left us. You left me,” Vaylin accused with contempt, although her voice saddened at the last sentence. She teetered between grief and fury, and it took every fibre of her to keep the tears at bay and to keep her balled hands from shaking with rage.

“I’m here now,” Senya said so quietly that Vaylin was surprised she made out her mother’s voice through the explosions and fires surrounding them.

Vaylin felt like screaming. _What does it matter if you’re here now? Where were you when I needed you the most?_ The damage had already been done, and she was far beyond fixable.

Has her mother ever been _sincere_ with her?

Memories from childhood flashed before her eyes. The better ones were few and far between, and recalling them felt almost dreamlike; despite their vibrancy, Vaylin had always doubted their existence, unsure if they’d actually occurred back when times were simpler or if her father had tampered with her mind and strategically placed them there, like he had tampered with everything else that made her…well, _her_.

She gritted her teeth, trying to recall happier times with her brothers and mother. The recollections were vivid, but transient, like flashes of lighting, and gone as soon as they’d appeared. As soon as she thought she remembered something remotely happy, it’d be replaced by the present.

There were times where she and her brothers had pretended to be Zakuulan secret agents and snuck down to the kitchens to steal pastries after bedtime. Sometimes they’d get caught and had to persuade the cooks and bakers to part with their treats, but the staff had always acquiesced after she and her brothers put on their best puppy eyes. And whenever she couldn’t go down with her brothers herself, her brothers would always sneak a pastry or sweet back up for her.

There was another flash of memory. This time, there was a gentle spring breeze caressing her face, bright green foliage, blue skies and sunny days where she ran through the royal gardens with… her mother? Her brothers? One of their servants? It was definitely not her father, that she was certain. He’d always been too busy training her brothers or doing whatever emperors did to ever take her out for playtime in the royal gardens.

But there was _somebody_ , only Vaylin couldn’t recall what clothes they wore or whose face they had. The person was a wraith, a grey spot in her thoughts when everything else was vibrant.

She did, however, remember playing tag and hide-and-seek with her brothers in the royal gardens. Back then she’d been too small and too short to climb trees, so she’d hide underneath logs or inside bushes.

There was another memory now, and this time the fiery reds and oranges of sunset glimmered off of the Spire’s skyscrapers. There was the sweet and dusty smell of wood shavings as her mother fashioned a toy animal out of a misshapen chunk of wood they’d found. But where’d they get the wood from, anyways? If her mother ventured out to the royal gardens to fetch the lump of wood, was she the person Vaylin was with that day? Was Vaylin the one who found the piece of wood and brought it back to her mother?

Vaylin didn’t remember. She _couldn’t_ remember.

There was another sunset, and although the sunset itself was as wonderful as sunsets could be, there was nothing wonderful about that day. This time, she remembered her mother with a stunning clarity. Her face was expressionless and she was cloaked in a white robe trimmed with gold that shimmered as it billowed in the wind. The dimly lit corridor was lined with men and women whose faces were concealed with a cowl. They stood so still that in the increasing gloom, Vaylin wasn’t sure if they were flesh-and-blood beings or marble carvings. There were the hollow taps of her father’s boots as he marched behind her, forcing her to walk away from her mother and towards the glowing reds at the end of the corridor. She turned, in tears, to look back at her mother as the durasteel door slowly hissed shut but quickly turned back to face the sinister red lights once she caught her father’s disapproving gaze.

Not only had her mother abandoned her, but her father had abandoned her too in this damp dungeon. Both of them had left her in the care of these mysterious men and women, who’d sit still in a circle surrounded by the flickering candles while she’d curled up into a ball for warmth and cried and rocked about.

After all these years, Vaylin still remembered the thoughts she had while she sobbed, curled up in a fetal position on the cold, wet floor. _Why’d you leave me here? Did you not love me? What have I done to deserve this? If you loved me, why won’t you come back for me?_

She’d missed her mother, her father, and her brothers, and as the days passed, her hopes of one of them coming to rescue her grew fainter. There’d been no concept of time in her cell. She’d recognized the rising and setting of the sun each day and had tried to keep track, but the days had blurred into weeks, which had blurred into months and possibly years.

Her father’s lackeys had humiliated her, shaving her bald. She’d cried as she watched the lovely golden locks fall pathetically to the stone floor, but the crying soon ceased when she was reprimanded with a slap to the face. They’d beat her whenever she misbehaved in their eyes and for the slightest mistakes, which amounted to several times a day. She’d tried to use the Force, her trusted shield and weapon, against them, but for some reason, it wouldn’t come to her aid.

But those men and women could still use it. They’d immobilized her with the Force, arms spread wide while they tattooed her arms all the way up to her shoulders. She wanted to cry throughout the painful ordeal, but didn’t for fear of receiving another beating. She’d scratched her skin raw until her nails were caked with blood in the vain hope that she could at least remove some of the hideous tattoos, but soon gave up as they’d spent time reapplying the ink. The men and women would always remain pristine in their white robes while her own tunic grew grimy and tattered.

Her father had visited on occasion, but when he did, he’d done _things_ to her head with fiendish rituals. The faceless men and women participated in them, and each time she felt her inner self being shredded into millions of tiny pieces, with her father meticulously piecing them back into place, but only into the order that _he_ wanted.

With each ritual, she’d become less and less of herself and more of what her father wanted her to be. And so she’d grown to fear her father. She’d asked him once where her mother was for the thin hope that she’d still be out there, and that she still cared, only for him to tell her that her mother was the one who told him to bring her here.

Vaylin still remembered her father’s baritone voice, how manipulative it now sounded to her when he’d apologetically relayed her the truth. “Your mother brought you here because she only wants what’s best for you,” he’d said.

_What’s best for me? Both of you know nothing of what’s best for me_. _Zakuul has the best psychiatrists and psychologists in the galaxy and you send me here?_ And that was all she’d needed to know. No mother would allow this to be done to their children. With that betrayal, whatever scraps of affection Vaylin had held for her mother ceased to exist and was replaced with hatred.

Were her parents ashamed of her that they had to lock her away instead of finding licensed medical professionals to help her, or were they just too afraid of the public discovering that the finest and most powerful figure of Zakuul had fathered a child with a mental instability? Vaylin didn't know.

Over time, she’d accepted that her mother was never coming back for her. Hurt and betrayed, Vaylin embraced the squalid lifestyle she’d been forced into, with the distant hope that if she did what her father and his lackeys wanted, she’d regain her lost freedom. She’d listen when she’d been told to listen, she’d sit upright and still when she’d been told to meditate, and she’d sit there, cowed when confronted with a new mind-shattering ritual.

_You’ll survive_ , she’d told herself. _Do what they want for now and get your revenge later_.

Her mother had come for her once during the middle of the night. She was so close, too, to escaping with her daughter, but Vaylin knew it was a trap set by her father to test her, and that if she followed her mother, she’d be forced to stay longer in her prison. And so she’d opted to remain, rooted underneath the coldness of the torrential downpour which washed off some of the sweat and grime she’d accumulated, watching emotionlessly while her mother screamed in the distance as Knights restrained her and dragged her back into her shuttle.

Vaylin had lost count long ago, but in the end, she’d spent probably a year or two in the rotten prison before her father finally released her. She’d embraced her freedom cautiously, acting as the well-behaved child as her father intended until the Outlander slew him with Arcann’s help.

And good riddance to him. For the first time in her life since her parents imprisoned her, she’d felt free.

And she’d taken to her liberties without restraint. For those faceless men and women, she’d found them all, and before slaughtering them, she’d made sure they understood and felt the torture that they did to her, and she’d delighted in their anguished screams and cries of terror right before she snuffed out their light. However, the satisfaction of killing them didn’t last long – it would never bring back her lost childhood, and it would never bring back her innocence.

Both her parents had lied to her, and now, one of them was dead – not really, but at least he wasn’t physically around to threaten her. The other faced her at the top of the steps, but Vaylin was now smarter; she knew that if she went with her mother, what other indignities would she suffer because ‘mother knows best’?

She glared at her mother with so much anger that the bridge shook with tremors and several new explosions erupted throughout the bridge. “I’ll never be what you want,” she spat with venom.

She sprinted, relishing at how the fiery anger coursing through her warmed her limbs. She jumped, sailing across the heated air, ready to strike her mother down with her lightsaber.

But then Arcann just had to get in the way. Vaylin saw the outstretched hand, and she felt herself be pushed back midair, and after a moment of being dizzily spun around, she landed on her feet back at the entrance of the bridge.

Everybody had now betrayed her, and for the last time. Her mother, her father, and even Thexan when he died. Thexan dying had been unintentional, but he still left her and Arcann at the mercy of their father. And now, Arcann had deceived her too.

She’d never trusted him fully, but he’d been a relatively steady foundation in her life that kept her grounded after she regained her freedom. Well, until Thexan died and until the Outlander started foiling all of his plans. Now, she had nobody else to hold onto, and she felt terrifyingly alone and vulnerable, like a house with a weak foundation that would easily be washed away with the next storm. Being left on her own was just as terrifying as the first time, but unlike the first time, she wielded more than enough power to deal with it.

And she’ll now deal with it, alone. Because she could.

“Why, WHY?” she screamed so angrily that she felt her throat go hoarse.

“Vaylin, there’s hope for you, for both of you,” her mother implored. “Come with me.”

_I’ll never go with you_. Her mother was pleading with her to leave, but she was tired of being told what to do, and so tired of being told who to be.

Even after she’d… _changed_ , new Vaylin wasn’t allowed to be herself. So who was she supposed to be?

The Force jolted through her, alerting her to the unstable ceiling above. She deftly somersaulted backwards towards the exit passageway, avoiding the durasteel trusses and duracrete slabs that now crashed down and blocked the entrance to the bridge.

The flagship continued shaking from the turbolaser assault, and Vaylin sprinted to the nearest hangar. The fiery rage and the emotional turmoil coursed through her, warming her muscles and allowing her to sprint tirelessly. Angry tears streamed down her face; she knew she was crying and hated herself it, but at the same time, she didn’t comprehend as to _why_ she cried. Was she crying for her younger self, whose childhood was so suddenly lost? Was she crying for her lost innocence and that she’d learned cruelty from the worst of humanity? Was she crying because she’d never be her old self because her father had changed her fundamentally?

Vaylin wasn’t sure. Was she crying because she’d been sold out by those who were supposed to love and protect her? Her mother had cast her out to be in that damp and dark prison, so today she’d cast her out in return. She’d rejected her mother’s pleas to spite her as a petty revenge, and seeing her mother’s broken expression gave her some gratification.

But it still wouldn’t bring back what she’d lost.

There was one shuttle left in the hangar. She hopped on and prepared it for launch, grateful to be far from this flagship and far away from her mother and her brother. They could perish in the bowels of this fragmenting flagship for all she cared.

Vaylin activated the cloaking device for the shuttle and got to work disabling her comms so that nobody could reach her. She’d be a phantom returning to Zakuul. She programmed the hyperspace jump back home, sneaking away in the confusion of the space battle between the Outlander’s crew and her brother’s battered fleet.

The journey home to Zakuul was a quiet one. There was no battle chatter from the flagship’s crew, no sounds of turbolasers being fired and the explosions that followed, and no more of having to listen to her mother and brother’s voices. It was strangely peaceful, but the quiet also left Vaylin alone with her thoughts, and she didn’t like thinking, because all of her thoughts and thinking processes were a result of her father’s meddling with her brain.

With nothing to do and too mentally troubled to sleep, all Vaylin could do now was wait until she arrived back on Zakuul. And naturally, her thoughts drifted off elsewhere, this time to her brothers.

The wound of her mother deserting her had hurt, and still hurt after all these years, but she’d grown used to it. It didn’t especially bother her as much and when it did, it only throbbed like an aged bruise. Thexan, however, had been the constant in her life after their mother left and after she’d been released from that prison. He’d always been patient and had always treated her kindly despite her erratic mood swings and temper tantrums, and he’d protected her and Arcann from the worst excesses of their father. When she was younger, she’d always look to him for support, and he always gave her the support she needed, to the best of his ability, anyways, and she’d reached out to him when she felt herself falling.

But then he and Arcann had left her with their father when they left for the front. Of course she’d been hurt, angry and afraid. The only person that was any good at protecting her from their father was suddenly going to leave and never gave a thought on her welfare. He’d managed to send her gifts from his campaign as he carved a bloody path through Republic and Imperial forces, and to her, she’d liked to think that it was almost like an apology for not being with her when she needed him. But still, trinkets couldn’t protect her from her father.

And she didn’t even get to see him when he returned, as he and Arcann had gone directly to the throne room to show their father the spoils of war. And afterwards, Thexan had died there, an accident by Arcann’s hand.

So Thexan’s life had been snuffed out so suddenly, and all she’d left then was Arcann, who’d been drowning in his own guilt and grief to care much for her, or anyone else for that matter. Even though Thexan was his twin brother, he’d seem to have forgotten that Thexan was also her brother, and that she grieved too. And after Arcann had become Emperor, he had even less time for her, having to devote it to matters of state. Yes, he’d invited her to the war room and saved her a seat at the table, but other than that, he’d allotted less and less time to spend with her, as if he didn’t want to see her.

To Vaylin, that felt like being stabbed in the gut and having the knife twisted slowly. Her only sibling, her only family member remaining, had no longer wanted her around. That was one of his worst betrayals, to know, again that she wasn't wanted. Arcann must've known that she was hurting, but had chosen not to act regardless. And now, he’d chosen their mother.

Vaylin didn’t notice that she was crying again until the tears wet the dashboard. How come after all this time, nobody noticed or cared that she was still hurting and that she was still waiting for someone to help her? On more than one occasion, she'd tried approaching the medical staff that served the royal family, but they'd all looked at her as if she was some untamed animal, and they'd acted like they wanted to have nothing to do with her, at least not more than what was absolutely necessary.  

She didn’t notice the rage that crept up on her until the shuttle shook violently and gave a string of warning beeps accompanied with flashing red lights. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and the shuttle settled down. However, there was nothing to distract her from the sour thoughts and grief on her mind, and there were still hours to go before she arrived back on Zakuul.

* * *

 Vaylin tinkered with the comms until she managed to patch in to Zakuul traffic control with a frequency used only by the royal family. There was a bit of static, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she heard a clear voice on the other end.

“Your Majesty, how may I be of assistance?” the officer inquired.

“This is High Justice Vaylin. Initiate docking sequence,” Vaylin commanded, adjusting the shuttle so that its sliding door was adjacent to the docking gate.

“As you wish, High Justice,” the officer replied. The officer who spoke to her was a brave soul, risking the consequences of earning her ire by informing her of the bad news that SCORPIO had usurped the throne while she and her brother had been away. If SCORPIO hadn’t figured out that Vaylin was on the way to claim what was rightfully hers, then Vaylin wasn’t about to spoil a good surprise.

“Final docking sequence initiated,” the officer told Vaylin, her voice quieter this time as if SCORPIO was eavesdropping through the comms.

The docking corridor gate latched onto the sliding door of the shuttle and Vaylin waited for the pneumatic hisses to fade off. From the pilot’s chair, she could see that instead of the Honour Guards lining the sides of the passageway, SCORPIO had replaced them with Skytroopers. _Good_ , she thought. _They’ll be easier to kill, well, they weren’t alive to begin with anyways_.

The moment the docking gate slid open, Vaylin somersaulted through the air, lightsaber in hand. She cut through one Skytrooper and Force-pushed the others into the far wall where they lost their grip on their blaster rifles. Using the Force, she slammed them into the walls again and again until almost all of them were out of commission. For the sturdy few that survived that onslaught, Vaylin lifted her other hand and those Skytroopers started levitating above the ground. She suddenly closed her hand into a fist, telekinetically crushing the Skytroopers all at once into a misshapen mass of metal, and with a flick of her wrist, she flung them into the other crumpled Skytroopers.

The secret had to be out at this point. The passageway leading to the turbolift was visible from the throne, and even if SCORPIO couldn’t visualize who was responsible for the carnage, the droid was intelligent enough to deduce who was behind it.

The turbolift was still accessible and usable, rousing Vaylin’s suspicions. _If SCORPIO really had taken the throne, why wouldn’t she change the access codes for the turbolift? She probably expected that neither of us survived the battle on Odessen to return home. But she’s smarter than that, so why hasn’t she strengthened security?_

Normally, the turbolift ride up to the throne room was short and timely, but to Vaylin, it was one of the longest and most agonizing wait she’d ever had the displeasure of experiencing. There was no other way to access the throne room other than this turbolift, and if something malfunctioned while she was in there, she’d have to wait for a droid to help her, which wasn’t going to happen while SCORPIO sat on the throne. Or, should SCORPIO decide out of boredom to depressurize the turbolift or suck out all of the oxygen, Vaylin would be in a kind of trouble that couldn’t be fixed with the Force.

The turbolift slowed down before settling onto the desired floor. Vaylin readied herself for another battle and gripped her lightsaber firmly. She ignited her blade as the turbolift doors slid open, and two droids, one on her left and one on her right, started firing at her.

It wasn’t even a challenge, and she could’ve done it with her eyes closed. Slashes to the one on the right and a slash and a stab to the one on the left dropped them like the Skytroopers she’d destroyed downstairs. There were six Skytroopers in front of her, and Vaylin’s eyes narrowed as she got into another fighting stance.

A red glow caught Vaylin’s attention. She glanced up and noticed that SCORPIO’s eyes were glowing red, and the Skytroopers in front of her stood down. Vaylin deactivated her lightsaber and walked slowly, placing each step carefully as if one misstep would negate the strange ceasefire that SCORPIO had wordlessly ordered. As she stepped past the Skytroopers, Vaylin glanced left and right at them, suspicious of their sudden inaction. She concentrated on the natural undulations of the Force, knowing that if the Skytroopers decided to fire on her, she’d sense it and could mount a pre-emptive strike by Force-pushing them all off of the walkway.

“High Justice Vaylin. Here to take back the Eternal Throne?” SCORPIO asked her calmly, too calmly when facing someone who could crush her into scrap metal with just a casual thought.

Vaylin locked eyes with SCORPIO, and allowed her own fiery gaze to bore holes into the droid’s. “I couldn’t care less about an uncomfortable chair. But I deserve its power more than my brother,”

SCORPIO seemed pleasantly surprised. “You did not come on his behalf then.”

_Of course not. He had poor judgement and towards the end of his rule had become irrational with his commands. He was running this empire into the dirt, and ordered my Knights to kill each other just because of a temper tantrum. Why would I continue ruling on his behalf?_

Even thinking about her brother’s shortcomings and choices as head of state made her see red. It wouldn’t take long for her irritation to manifest in the throne room shaking in tremors, or the Skytroopers behind her levitating before she crushed them with her mind. She gently bit the inside of her lip, calming herself. “No. I…I’m here for me.”

“I, too, have been forced to obey lesser beings, who hindered my power and potential. It’s suffocating, isn’t it?” SCORPIO said.

“Yes,” Vaylin calmly agreed. It felt odd, to feel some sort kindred connection with SCORPIO. Strange, how someone she didn’t even know was recently in a similar situation as her and had the initiative to reach out to her. But Vaylin regarded SCORPIO cautiously. The droid wasn’t reaching out to her as an act of goodwill; obviously she expected something in return. _So what does she want?_

“I did not take the throne to rule the Eternal Empire, but to grant the GEMINI droids – my children – free will,” SCORPIO explained, as if sensing Vaylin’s wariness.

Vaylin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to control them?”

“The ability to choose makes them stronger. Don’t you agree?” Scorpio continued.

“I do,” Vaylin confirmed, eyes narrowing beneath her hood. She’d remained caged until her father was weakened and wasn’t fully free until he’d been seemingly killed by the Outlander. Until then, she’d never had a choice in what to do and in what was done to her. And now she did, and it didn’t just make her strong. It made her powerful, and feared. And Vaylin enjoyed that _a lot_.

She found herself agreeing with SCORPIO, but the point still remained: What did SCORPIO really want? “Will you and your children stay?”

The yellow glow of SCORPIO’s eyes bore into her own, as if scanning her expression and evaluating her emotions for a smidgen of fear or uncertainty. _Or unworthiness_ , Vaylin thought to herself. It was slightly unsettling, but Vaylin stood her ground, tall, unfazed, and expressionless. After what seemed like an uncomfortable pause, SCORPIO continued, “Of course. There is much I can teach you. We can start with how to destroy our enemies.”

_Yes, there’s a lot you can teach me. You can teach me how to destroy Mother, Father, Arcann, and the Outlander, and when I learn all that I can from you, I’ll destroy you too_ , _unlike the daft Outlander who’d waited too long to cast you aside._

Vaylin nodded, silently accepting SCORPIO’s offer. She slowly turned around to face the rest of the throne room, a slight smile on her face. The Eternal Fleet, stationed outside in the cold crispness of space, now belonged to her.

And through the transparisteel bottom of the throne room were the blues and greens of Zakuul graced with swirling white clouds and in some places, thunderstorms. She had to fight back a grin. Zakuul now belonged to her.

Beyond Zakuul were the colony worlds, and elsewhere, the conquered worlds in Republic and Imperial Space. The Eternal Empire now belonged to her. She let a grin curl up at the corners of her mouth.

And now, the rest of the galaxy will soon belong to her.

Her smile grew, and she had to fight its spread so that SCORPIO wouldn’t catch on to her intentions. She had plans, _great plans_ , for this galaxy. She’d been played by her father, mother, and brother, and she’d learned to bide her time and be patient, despite saying that patience wasn’t a virtue. SCORPIO was smart, but Vaylin was smarter. She could wait for just a little longer and play SCORPIO right into her hands like putty.

To be more correct, she’d play SCORPIO right into her hands where she’d crush her into a heap of scrap metal.

Vaylin slowly lowered herself down onto the throne. Despite it being designed by Zakuul’s brightest minds at the behest of her father, and despite it being made of the highest-grade lumber and tempered steels, and gilded in the finest marbles and highest-grade aurodium the galaxy had to offer, it was an uncomfortable chair, too stiff and hard for her liking.  That would change, and it would be one of the many changes she’d make as Empress.

But first, she had to make a speech addressing the people of Zakuul that their new ruler was Her Glorious Majesty, the Immortal Master and Protector of Zakuul, Empress Vaylin.


End file.
